


I Only Want to Help

by TheObsessedAuthor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Souls, Suicidal Thoughts, idk why, oh and sam can bake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheObsessedAuthor/pseuds/TheObsessedAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a heavy heart and mediocre culinary skills, Cas and Gabe have half-hidden conversations, everyone sucks at communication, and Dean just wants someone to help with the /groceries/, dammit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Only Want to Help

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write self-hatred. This happened. Comments are encouraged.

_Finally._ Sam dusted the flour from his hands and proudly surveyed his work. It had taken all afternoon, but he'd done it- he'd created the perfect angel food cake, _from scratch._ Not too chewy, not dry, not burnt. It wasn't quite Dean-level gourmet, but Sam was fairly certain Dean had taken secret cooking lessons at some point- or, at the very least, hooked up with a culinary professional. In any case, he was probably never going to bake as well as Dean; but this was his best experiment yet. The souffle he'd previously attempted had ended in disaster, and the tart recipe he'd tried was now eternally banned from the bunker.

 

 

 _Another thing you fucked up_ , supplied the ever-present voice in his head. Sam did his best to ignore it and carefully upended the cake pan onto a plate. It slid out perfectly, thanks to his generous application of cooking spray. He cut two large pieces and began slicing a third before remembering that Dean had gone out grocery shopping. _Just me and Cas,_ he sighed internally. Sam was pretty sure the angel didn't like him, but he couldn't be certain- he'd never stayed in the same room as Sam long enough to affirm anything. Cas usually disappeared before he could ask, and he was loathe to ask it anyway- if Castiel _did_ hate Sam, asking him about it wouldn't help things at all. _If anything, it'll make it worse,_ continued the voice.

 

He maneuvered the slices of angel food cake- _I hope he's not offended, at least it's not devil's food cake_ \- onto two plates and set a fork on each one. Balancing a plate in each hand, he managed to kick the kitchen door open with one foot. He'd last seen Cas... in the library, he thought. Maybe this would make it better, a peace offering of a sort- even though he now claimed the molecules were overwhelming. Maybe this would make up for whatever he'd done to deserve the blank glares he seemed to constantly be on the receiving end of.

 

Sam strode down the hallway, pausing outside the library to readjust the plates. He was about to nudge the door open when he heard a voice... no, _voices_ , plural.

 

He stopped, then put his ear against the oaken door. The voices sharpened, but were still painfully soft. "He's just so _dirty_ inside."

 

Sam's eyes widened. Cas sounded... angry. Angry at _him_?

 

"Hell will do that to you." The other voice, slightly louder and twice as blunt, was frighteningly familiar. _Gabriel_?

 

"Obviously." A sigh. "I can hardly stand to be in the same room as him. It's just disgusting to witness."

 

"I wonder what Dean would think, if he could see his soul. The marks on it." There was a slurping sound. "He would probably be terrified."

 

A chair creaked. "Should we... do something?"

 

"Like what?" More slurps. Sam winced, lowering his hands slightly. One of the forks began to slide off its plate, and he quickly raised his arm again, even while knowing he should interrupt, should burst in and pretend he hadn't heard anything. Pretend he wasn't hoping they _would_ do something about it. _Because you're too weak to do it yourself,_ spat the voice.

 

Luckily- or unluckily, whichever it was- neither angel noticed the tiny scraping noise. Castiel continued speaking, in a voice that was almost thoughtful. "...even though Dean won't approve."

 

 _Approve of what? Damnit!_ Sam gritted his teeth- he'd missed the first part of Cas's solution. Stupid sliding eating utensils.

 

"Dean-o _definitely_ won't approve," Gabriel agreed. "He'll get used to it eventually, though. And I doubt Sam would argue against it."

 

"He knows he deserves it," Castiel mused. "I can tell. We just need to ask."

 

"He'd let us?"

 

"Almost certainly."

 

More creaking. Another slurp. Sam was on edge, filled with horrible possibilities. _Dean won't approve... he knows he deserves it...disgusting to witness..._

 

 _Oh._ A bolt of understanding hit him, less painfully than he thought it would've. _They're going to get rid of me._

 

 _It makes sense,_ he thought to himself. _I get in the way a lot, and Dean can hunt fine without me. He's better off without me, really- he doesn't need to worry about saving me._ Sam stared at the library door, not seeing anything, thoughts churning. _I only hurt him. I only hurt everyone. This is... this is good. This will help._ He felt oddly detached from the situation. _This is how I can help._

 

_I can disappear._

 

_And they can make that happen._

 

He didn't notice the door opening until he was face to face with Castiel. "Sam?"

 

"Cas," he greeted him. His voice didn't shake. "Can I come in?" He remembered what he was holding- his hands were numb, he'd forgotten. "I brought, um-"

 

"Cake? You can _definitely_ come in." Gabriel snatched up both plates and happily carted them over to one of the library tables, immediately setting to work on them despite the lollipop already poking out of the corner of his mouth. "You could teach your brother a thing or two about making an entrance. His needs work... and pastries."

 

Castiel was still staring at Sam. "You heard us?"

 

"Yes." His voice shook, that time. Which was stupid, because this was good, this was going to help, and wasn't that what he was always trying to do? "And I agree."

 

"Good," Gabriel muttered from the table, already halfway through one of the slices of cake. "So can we do this now, before your idiot sibling gets back from Wal-Mart or wherever and fights us about this?"

 

"It _would_ be best to do this when Dean isn't present," Castiel conceded. Sam didn't believe he'd blinked since he'd opened the door. "Do you want to sit down?"

 

"I..." Sam hesitated. He knew what was going to happen; he'd seen victims of angels before. Eyes burned out, sockets smoking, blood everywhere. "Could you make it... clean?"

 

"Of course." Castiel frowned. "We wouldn't make a mess, and it's very quick."

 

"Okay...okay." Sam sat heavily in one of the library's swivel chairs, closing his eyes. He felt stupid for asking anything, because he'd considered this himself before, and this would make it so much easier, they were making everything so much better- but he had to. "Will it hurt?"

 

"Sure, a little bit," Gabriel admitted, brushing crumbs off of his jacket and coming to stand next to Cas. "But worth it, don't you think?"

 

 _Yes_. Sam swallowed. "Just... don't tell Dean how it happened, okay? Make it an accident, or make it look like... like I did it. I don't..." His mouth was dry. "I don't him to be mad at you."

 

"Mad at us?" Gabriel frowned. "Why would he be mad at us?"

 

"Dean will come around to it," Castiel promised. "He'll even thank us for it, when we explain why it had to be done. It's just that we can't stand to see you in so much pain."

 

Sam bit his lip. _He'll thank us for it._ That hurt more than it should have, even though he agreed. "I'm ready," he murmured finally, blushing as he realized how ridiculous he was being. _They're offering to fix everything, to take one more burden off Dean's shoulders, and you're fighting them._ The voice turned bitter. _You'd have done it yourself eventually, if they hadn't offered. This is so much better. Stop protesting._

 

Two fingers pressed against his forehead, and he relaxed. Two more fingers- Gabriel's, probably- brushed away a strand of hair and rested near near his temple. _This is the only way._

 

It was warm in the library. Had it been that warm when he'd walked in? He couldn't remember. Sam wanted to swallow, but he couldn't move. The heat was creeping up his arms, invading his lungs, and he couldn't breathe- he couldn't fucking _breathe_ -

 

And all at once, it was over. It was white, blindingly white, and he still couldn't move- but he didn't have anything to move, so that was okay. Everything was okay. He could never hurt anyone again. This was him, helping. This was how he helped most- by dying.

 

"Sam?"

 

The voice was enormous, enveloping his not-body and filling him with coldness. The warmth of the abyss was being sucked away, and he fought it, fought it with everything he had- not much, but something. He couldn't go back, he couldn't screw this up, he'd finish it himself if he had to-

 

"Sam!"

 

Sam opened his eyes- he hadn't realized he'd closed them- and met Castiel's gaze. "C-Cas?"

 

"We're done," Cas said, his grave face betraying a hint of pride. "You're fixed."

 

"Fixed?"

 

"Wasn't that easy?" Gabe was reclining in a swivel chair, already chewing on another sucker. "Now we've just got to convince big brother that you're fine, and we'll be all done."

 

"I'm..." Sam glanced down at himself, as if expecting to see an angel blade protruding from his abdomen. "I'm fine?"

 

"Of course." Cas tilted his head quizzically. "Why wouldn't you be?"

 

"I thought..." Sam ran through the conversation they'd had. _You deserve it,_ the voice sneered. "I thought you were going to kill me."

 

The library was dead quiet. Sam kept his gaze down. Neither Castiel nor Gabriel spoke. "It made _sense_ ," Sam said finally, frightened of the stretched silence, frightened of the unresponsive angels. "You said I was disgusting, you couldn't be in the same room as me, and it'd be better... and Dean, Dean would understand, he'd get over it, I only get in the way anyhow, this would be one less thing to worry about-" he stopped, his voice breaking. "It made sense," he repeated, hating the quiver in his words.

 

The silence continued. He raised his head slightly, trying to gauge the reaction of the angels without having to make eye contact. Cas looked horrified; and Gabe- he looked so fucking _heartbroken_ that Sam's own heart twisted. _You're still hurting people,_ the voice said darkly. _That's all you ever do, isn't it?_

 

Gabriel was the first to move. " _Fuck_ ," he breathed, before appearing right in front of Sam and wrapping him in a completely unexpected hug. Sam hugged him back reflexively, even as the voice screamed at him. _You don't deserve comfort. You don't deserve his pain._

 

"We would never hurt you, kid," Gabriel implored. "'Why- what did you even-"

 

"Samuel," Castiel interrupted Gabriel, "We were replacing your soul. Not all of it, just the damaged pieces. We assumed Dean would protest you getting a new soul, even if it were only partially new, because of your previous experiences with souls." Castiel paused, and the sorrow lining his face was too much for Sam, who- to his horror- felt a tear slipping down his cheek. Gabriel hugged him harder.

 

"But..." Sam rewound the conversation, pushing away his assumptions and factoring in this new information. " _Oh_."

 

"Damn right, _oh_ ," Gabriel snapped. At some point he had seated himself on Sam's lap, and now shook him by his shoulders. "What the fuck did you mean, 'make it look like I did it'?"

 

Sam's gaze dropped. The voice hissed scornfully. _You see? Still causing pain. Why don't do everyone a favor and stop breathing? You were nearly there, and the world was so much warmer without you._

 

Castiel sucked in a breath. "I see," he grated, before his hand shot out to connect with Sam's forehead again. Sam instinctively went limp, which helped him _not_ buck Gabriel off when a sharp dagger of agony stabbed into his brain. A shriek tore from his mouth, and suddenly Gabriel was stroking his face, shushing him, Cas was there, the pain was gone, they were so quiet, and _why was he still screaming?_

 

He cut it off, and it echoed around the library eerily. He took a few shuddering breaths before looking up at Castiel. "What..."

 

"We missed a piece," Cas said grimly.

 

Gabriel's face flicked through several expressions, lightning-quick, before settling on remorse. "Sammy, i'm so sorry," he professed. "I thought we'd gotten it all, I thought we were done-"

 

"Missed a piece of _what_?" Sam winced at the demanding tone he'd used. He shouldn't be demanding things, not now, not when they'd helped him- even if it wasn't how he'd expected. He waited for the voice to surface, to tell him what a fuckup he was, to tell him to end it- his constant companion since before he could remember.

 

It didn't appear.

 

"Your soul," Castiel explained, his eyes reading Sam's expression.

 

Gabriel nodded. "We chopped off the rotten bits, and fitted on new ones," he said, continuing the explanation. "Apparently we missed the most rotten one- it was pretty well hidden, though. Lots of shit covering it up." He frowned. "I'm surprised you could _walk_ , with a conscience that heavy. No wonder you're ripped, huh?" He elbowed Sam, twisting his mouth when he didn't respond. _"I'm saying you're hot_ ," he said in a stage whisper. Sam reddened.

 

"So... it's gone? The," he gestured at himself disparagingly, "the...rotten bits?"

 

"Yes." Castiel's unblinking stare seemed infinitely less threatening than Sam had always found it before. "You should be fine now."

 

"Why wouldn't he be fine?" Dean, bulging plastic grocery bags hanging off his arms, stood in the hallway. He shifted. "Goddammit, I think the eggs broke. Can one of you get off of your asses and help me?"

 

"Sammy can help you," Gabriel volunteered, snapping himself out of Sam's lap and conjuring himself a handful of Jolly Ranchers.

 

Dean looked annoyed that the archangel had offered someone else's assistance, but Sam didn't mind. "I can help," he agreed, quickly taking some of the bags from Dean before he collapsed under the weight.

 

 

_I_ _can help._


End file.
